


On why exactly people should label their video tapes…

by zort



Category: Slipknot (Band)
Genre: BDSM Scene, Blow Jobs With Teeth, Flogging, Gags, Handcuffs, M/M, Masturbation, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-07 23:16:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21225872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zort/pseuds/zort
Summary: In his spare time on tour, Mick has taken to borrowing his bandmates's porn to jerk of to, but this tape truns out to be a little different than what he's used to.





	On why exactly people should label their video tapes…

**Author's Note:**

> Written back in 2004. Right, so now i feel ancient...
> 
> Anyway, even then video tapes weren't really a thing anymore, but they weren't as weird as they are nowadays. I mean in their early days of touring, it was more likely that their TV was equipped with a tape player (same with hotel rooms). Craig maaaaybe had a DVD player, but yeah. Plus the camera thing... OMG cameras at the time would have been so expensive and not digital anyway... So yeah, this fic definitely shows its age, and mine.
> 
> Back then it had been a gift for Myangelofdeath

  
Checking, somewhat self-consciously, that nobody was in the bunk section of the tour bus, Mick walked in and quietly shut the door. It was in instances such as this that he wished there was a lock on that door. Of course it wouldn’t really do him any good, seeing as how the bunk section had another door on its opposite end, leading to a small record studio and then to the back room, but he was fairly sure those were empty anyway.  
  
Still, he padded painfully slow to make sure he wasn’t being followed, before he stopped in front of a bunk that was not his own no matter which way you were looking at it. It was Paul’s and Mick knew it would hold exactly what he needed. Then he proceeded to look around one last time, all the while silently kicking his own ass for being such a pussy.  
  
Finally satisfied that he was for the moment safe, he crouched down in front of the bunk and looked in carefully, trying to work out where he would be if he was a video tape of porn.  
  
Paul’s bunk was in the same state as all of theirs were, with the notable exception of Craig’s but then again the man was a freak, that is to say a complete mess. And making out individual object in the dirty mass on the mattress was difficult to say the least.  
  
Eventually, he gave in to the necessity and reached inside to move some of the items, hoping that there was no order in the apparent mess otherwise his little intervention wouldn’t remain unnoticed. He moved about a few sweaters he fervently wished had been there for less than three weeks, which from the smell was pretty unlikely, and felt his heart jump in his broad chest when his fingers closed around a solid plastic object that indeed turned out to be a video tape.  
  
The tape was not labelled, nor was it even kept in a box. Such discretion made him think it had to be porn and it also reassured him that its owner wouldn’t notice its disappearance because what looked more like a label-less video tape than another label-less video tape, like the one that just fell from one of the sweaters he’d moved. Swiftly he threw the second label-less tape back in the pile with the sweaters artistically hiding it and looking like nothing had ever disturbed them.  
  
Standing up, he pondered where to put his price in the brief period of time before they’d reach the hotel they were spending the rest of the night in. Well, no point in being creative. Mick leaned up and threw the tape under the mass of dirty sweaters that occupied the corner of his own bunk.  
  
He had trouble keeping the gleeful smirk off his face. Somewhere deep down, a very small part of him still felt quite bad about watching one of his band mates’ porn, but the perverted part of him, which tended to be a lot more vocal about its tastes, kinks and needs, kept saying that it was going to be perfect: a form of voyeurism but just twisted enough that he didn’t run the risk to be discovered.  
  
  
  
It was almost five hours later that he was finally able to lock himself in his hotel room to finally indulge in his oh-so-delicious pleasures. He’d try to tell the others that he was not interested in getting wasted tonight, particularly not if lap-dancers were involved at any time, but Jim had managed to talk him into it, like the other guitarist always did. Seemed like the guy had a sixth sense on how to wrap people around his little finger, or maybe just him... Anyway, that was then and the lap-dances hadn’t been so bad after all, he was more than ready to watch the tape.  
  
But first, he needed to make a few preparations. He went to the player and put the tape on rewind while he investigated the contents of the mini-bar. He eventually settled down on a the bed with a beer, picked up the remote control and made himself comfortable, that is to say that he stripped down to his briefs, before he pushed the start button.  
  
As he waited for the film to start, he opened his beer and very nearly choked on his first swig when he realised the quality of the picture was so bad it could only be amateur work, as in home-made video, as in he’d stumbled on Paul’s DIY porn tape. Part of him immediately started wondering whether the other label-less tape had been personal porn, while another had trouble keeping his excitement under control. The last part of his mind was weakly trying to point out that it was quite different to watch his friend’s porn collection and to watch said-friend perform in porn, no matter how amateur.  
  
He probably would have dwelt on that last point, but a body came into focus on the screen and he entirely forgot to pay any attention to his mind, his beer or his lungs.  
  
Because that body, even if he couldn’t make out the face as it was out of the picture frame, Mick had seen it enough time before to identify it beyond any doubt as that of his band’s bassist, and never would he have thought that he could find that man sexy as all hell.  
  
A bubble of pain exploded in his chest as his lungs reminded him quite sternly that they needed oxygen to work properly, especially if he planned on having his heart beat so hard for any length f time. He took a careful breath, the still somewhat coherent part of his mind trying to get him to stop the tape while he still retained some sort of moral dignity. But then the chiselled body claimed his attention again and he decided morality was overrated.  
  
Paul, then. In the TV, standing up, arms spread on either side. Looking intently Mick finally decided that the bassist was in this position because his wrists were kept up by large, dark iron cuffs. He was wearing teasingly low slung, black, tight leather trousers, the fly already half-undone which only managed to draw more attention to the straining bulge underneath.  
  
Mick took a slow swig of beer and started wondering why nothing was happening when the image suddenly moved erratically. When it settled down again, Paul’s face was included in the frame and he looked like he wasn’t going to wait for a lot longer.  
  
“Leave that fucking video alone now and come here.”  
  
The focus of the image was fiddled with again and it lost most of its blur, now Mick could even make out the beads of sweat on Paul’s chest. He was getting extremely curious as to who the other person was going to be. For some reason, when they walked in the camera’s eye and their nicely defined back muscles indicated without a doubt that the person was another man, it didn’t really surprise him.  
  
What did surprise him was that the thing the man was wearing on his head, a mask of some sort, with five straps hooking star-like around his shaven head. Considering _Paul_ was chained to the wall though, it didn’t make sense for the other guy to be gagged.  
  
It didn’t make sense, but it sure was hot, in a kinky sort of way. Mick grinned broadly, he was glad he was a dirty, voyeuristic perv.  
  
And then the second man turned slightly and not only was he gagged but he was Craig, as in their sampler, as in he was looking in on two of his band mates rather than only the type of porn one of them enjoyed watching.  
  
He had always thought watching other people’s porn was the pinnacle of voyeurism because it allowed one to imagine all the naughty reasons why another person liked one particular kind of porn. That was how he’d discovered Corey’s decidedly fluffy tendencies, and Shawn’s love for lesbian porn. But this tape was a step further than everything else.  
  
As he started considering turning the tape off again, he became aware of how badly what little he had seen had affected him. He was harder than he could remember being in a similar situation and watching other people’s porn usually got him horny as fuck. His hard on was in fact verging on painful, the arousal so tight it sent shivers of painful pleasure through his guts and up his spine.  
  
So he did the only conceivable thing, reached down and squeezed his eyes shut concentrating on not getting himself too worked up. He sighed in relief when his hand firmly massaged his heated flesh through the thin material of his briefs. Concentrating on the sensation, he was caught completely by surprise when a cracking sound came from the TV and Paul grunted.  
  
Eyes shooting open, Mick caught the movement just as the stick fell on Paul’s chest for the second time, drawing a neat, red line across his belly a few inches below a first one. Paul let out the same soft grunt of half pain half pleasure and banged his head back against the wall as if the different kind of pain would allow him to control the first one better. A short second later, he looked at Craig and nodded. The stick came crashing down again, higher than the other two this time, leaving yet another red mark.  
  
The bassist bit his lips, but nodded for Craig to do it again almost immediately. Five nods and five slashes later, the tension in Craig’s shoulder was impossible to miss, the stick in his hand trembling with something that could only be qualified as need and Mick, wriggling out of his briefs, was wondering how on earth Paul managed to keep him under control from his position.  
  
Biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, Paul breathed heavily, but when he spoke his voice was as firm as ever.  
  
“You’re allowed two more, pet, at your leisure…”  
  
Craig’s head almost snapped, so quick it went to check he’d heard correctly. Paul nodded with a broad, verging on eager grin that swiftly disappeared when Craig lashed out hard and quick with two more blows. Paul cracked his head against the wall again, his fingers clenching and unclenching spasmodically.  
  
A low, pleading moan resounded and Mick was absolutely sure it had come from him as he had finally given in to the need to touch himself and the sensation of skin on skin was so good he had trouble going back to the video. But he realised his error when Paul gave Craig a hard glare.  
  
“Careful, you’re getting dangerously close to breaking the rule and you know what would happen then.”  
  
Craig nodded slowly, but the tension in his shoulders grew harder as he seemed to fight to decide what to do with the stick. In the end there was a loud sigh and Craig’s shoulder slouched down in defeat. Paul smiled wickedly and moved his arms up, as if he wasn’t chained to the wall, which turned out that he wasn’t really. His arms moved freely out of position and his hands came to rest on Craig’s shaven head, massaging it soothingly.  
  
Mick missed a stroke on his cock he was so surprised at the turn of events, and let out a muffled moan at the unwilling teasing. The heavy cuffs were still safely locked around the bassist’s wrists but, squinting to make sure, he realised there was some sort of bar coming off from them which must have somehow clipped in the wall and helped in keeping him in position while still giving him the choice to go away at any time.  
  
Smirking broadly, he licked his licks and decided he had been damn lucky in his little indiscretion. He couldn’t wait to see what the tape would be offering next.  
  
Paul was trailing wet, sloppy kisses along Craig’s neck and the sampler looked like he was going to explode from suppressed need. His hands were clenched in tight fists, arms shaking with the tension of keeping them still by his side. Then Paul leaned in and nibbled Craig’s ear, before whispering in a voice that made Mick tighten his grip on himself.  
  
“Now, pet, I’m going to take the gag off and I want you on your knees as soon as it’s off.”  
  
Craig nodded in a movement that was nothing if not eager, Mick groaned in anticipation and tried with difficulty to slow his stroking down. Thankfully, he didn’t have long to wait as, as soon as Paul had taken the gag off with the ease born from repetition, Craig sank to his knees with unanticipated grace and buried his face into Paul’s crotch.  
  
Mick whimpered and resisted the urge to fast forward to where he wouldn’t have to torture himself with imagining what was going to happen next and with the feeling of his thumb circling roughly around the head of his cock, almost scratching the sensitive flesh.  
  
He shouldn’t have worried, Paul was not the only one who was used to what he was doing, Craig expertly finished to open the bassist’s fly with his mouth and wasted no time in dragging the clinging material off his groin, revealing what Mick had suspected for a long time, that Paul had his cock pierced.  
  
As Craig teasingly trailed kisses on the bassist’s now bare thighs, Paul sank back against the wall for support The reaction was immediate but Mick could only see Craig’s body jerking up, not what had caused it.  
  
“If you don’t suck me in the next second, I’ll make sure you don’t come for the next two weeks, no matter how hard you think you need to.”  
  
The sentence wasn’t finished that Paul’s cock had disappeared from the view and was replaced by the sight of Craig’s head being pushed down roughly by a hand that Mick wished had been his own, instead he meticulously screwed his hand around his cock and lost himself in the sensation for a few moments.  
  
When he opened his eyes next, Paul was fucking Craig’s mouth. There was no other way to put it and he had to increase his rhythm just from the sheer rush of perverted pleasure he felt from the notion of somebody, and more precisely somebody he thought he knew, letting themselves be used in such a way.  
  
Craig spread his knees on the ground and grabbed Paul’s thighs to support himself, but never seemed to resist Paul’s insatiable grip on his head. As far as Mick could tell, and with just how close he was he wasn’t sure he could tell that much, the sampler was rubbing himself, through his trousers, against Paul’s foot.  
  
The bassist grunted and spoke brokenly. “Your teeth, pet, I want… to feel… your teeth.”  
  
Biting his lips at the words, Mick closed his eyes and pretended that it wasn’t his hand around his cock, but the warm, wet feeling of a mouth. He had to bite back a moan when he suddenly realised he wanted the mouth to be Jim’s, wanted to grip the man’s long hair roughly and fuck his mouth hard. He could imagine pushing past his gag reflex, could imagine fingers tensing on his hips where Jim was trying not to choke. It would be so good, even if the man was clumsy and had never done it before, for the simple, powerful rush of control.  
  
Paul hissed. The sound made visual fantasy mix with the very real image on the screen and Mick couldn’t take it anymore. He had trouble controlling the strength of his fingers around himself. His cock was so hard, so sensitive, so painful, but still it was not enough and he relentlessly fucked his hand fighting not to call Jim’s name when he finally got off.  
  
Warmth spurted between his fingers, release washed over his brain, his body arched on the hotel bed. Finally he tasted blood and came back to the reality of heavy breathing and sticky fluid on himself.  
  
On the TV, Craig was licking his lips then the picture turned to snow before moving to another dark scene.  
  
Letting out a satiated sigh, Mick reached out to the remote and turned the tape off. He grinned widely, he had definitely hit the jackpot with this tape. Hopefully, its owner wouldn’t miss it too quickly. Maybe he could even get Jim to watch it with him… just to get a second opinion on the quality of the picture of course.  
  
  
  
[the end]

**Author's Note:**

> Find me : [incredizort](https://incredizort.tumblr.com/)


End file.
